


Tickles

by ThatNerdyGirl



Series: Scomiche Drabbles [11]
Category: Pentatonix
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, Phone-stealing, Tickles, Wyatt - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 22:59:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1796404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatNerdyGirl/pseuds/ThatNerdyGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott needs help with cleaning the kitchen, and he will go to drastic measures to get it. </p><p>(Or, Scott steals Mitch's phone and the whole thing dissipates into a tickle fight)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tickles

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Hope you enjoy!

Scott glanced into the living room, pausing in his cleaning of the kitchen (God, it was so messy. He could hardly stand it anymore), to see Mitch lying on his stomach on the couch, messing around on his phone.

“Hey, Mitch?” Scott said loudly.

“Hm?” Mitch hummed, not taking his eyes off of his phone screen.

“Could you come help me clean, maybe?”

“Er-I’m a little busy.”

Scott rolled his eyes. Mitch was obviously _not_ busy in the slightest. Lazy-ass.

He walked into the living room and yanked the phone out of Mitch’s hands, Mitch following his movements quickly with an indignant “Hey!”

Scott dangled the phone teasingly above Mitch’s head, his height making it easy to drag the phone up out of Mitch’s reach. “Ha, Shortie,” he laughed. Mitch stood on tip-toe and reach up, but only his fingertips grazed the bottom edge of the phone. “If you want your phone back, come and help me with the kitchen,” Scott said, sure he had this in the bag. Mitch jumped, but Scott yanked the phone back further before he could grab it.

“Help me with the kitchen!”

“Never!” Mitch told him defiantly. He gave up all attempts to grab the phone and resorted to giving Scott puppy-eyes. Scott immediately looked away. “That won’t work this time, Mitch.”

Mitch sighed. “Fine.”

“‘Fine’ meaning you’ll help clean?”

“Of course not. ‘Fine’ meaning I’ll get my phone another way.”

Scott raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? And what would that be?”

Mitch grinned evilly, and Scott had a moment of doubt. That moment of doubt proved itself to be correct, for Mitch lunged and attacked Scott, tickling his stomach. Scott immediately started laughing, swatting Mitch hands away and curling in on himself to create less space for Mitch to tickle. “No!” he yelled, falling onto the couch.

Mitch laughed manically, tickling Scott’s neck, stomach, and the bottoms of his feet. The phone had fallen out of Scott’s hand long ago, but neither of them seemed to notice.

Scott rolled around, trying to shake Mitch off of him. The only way to defend against this was tickling his attacker right back. He reached out and tickled Mitch’s stomach. The reaction was immediate.

Mitch, taken aback, stumbled back laughing. “Okay, Scott, I can play at this game!”

Soon, they were rolling around the floor, laughing and screaming playfully, Wyatt dancing around them, curious as to why his owners were acting so strangely.

Finally, about fifteen minutes later, the couple lay on their backs against the carpet, faces red from laughing and wiping tears from their eyes. “Okay,” Mitch gasped, still giggling a little. “I’ll help.”

Scott turned his head to look at him. “You swear on that?”

Mitch nodded. “Yeah, I swear. Anything to not get tickled again.”

“Alright. We’ll get up in a minute, okay?”

They never really got to cleaning the kitchen, Scott is ashamed to admit. Oh well, he got kisses instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!


End file.
